Ecclesiastes
by Aurore Verlaine
Summary: Arthur/Merlin UST:: In time, Arthur will rise to inherit the crown, and in time, Merlin's magic will shine. A time for war and a time for silence, and even a time for minds to be irrecoverably lost...but never a time for them. -2 Parts-
1. Part I

**Disclaimer**:: Mine? Really? Slash would be so cannon and Merlin would so not be family friendly...eheh.

**Notes**: I'm not new to fanfiction, but I'm new to actually posting, and the Merlin fandom. Since it's so small, I figured I'd be kind of same, maybe? Please tell me what you think. This chapter is mostly just hints, next chapter will be more T-rated.

**Spoilers**: A little bit for Episode 4: The Poisoned Chalice, but not much.

* * *

**Ecclesiastes**

_"There is a time for everything; a season for everything under heaven."_  
-Ecclesiastes 3:1

--

**i. Rebirth**

**--  
**

When Merlin finally wakes up from three days of poisoned sleep, the fever has left him ravaged and far from beautiful. With sallow skin and bones for fingers, he looks barely there. But his eyes are as green as they always have been, the smile ever cheerful. Gwen kisses him, and Gaius stands back looking at them like some proud father.

Something is reborn in Arthur's heart as he watches from his position in the doorway, something like a sprout of affection and sorrow intwined has rooted there in his soul.

Affection that a prince definitely should not be feeling under any circumstances about his newly resurrected manservant, and the sorrow, because Arthur knows with awful certainty that the emotions will never vanish, if anything, they will become more present.

Merlin sees him, and smiles. "They say you've saved me, sire."

Arthur thinks of the light, and the sound of Merlin's voice ghosts warmly across his skin. "Good servants are hard to come by." _And that is all,_ he tells himself sternly, as Merlin's smile grows. It is infectious, because Arthur feels his own stern lips starting to relent.

Merlin does not say anything, what he wants to say, Arthur can read bits and pieces in his eyes. Gaius tells him thank you.

Arthur swallows a thick lump in his throat, "Get some rest."

--

**ii. Laughter**

**--**

It is a strange time to find laughter, Arthur thinks, as he watches Merlin being pelted with rotten vegetables. If it was him, he would have been wholly humiliated, if anything, he would have at least refused to eat for the next week or say and barricaded himself in his chambers to console his ego.

Merlin, though...Merlin is perfectly fine when Arthur calls for more wine later in the day. His manservant is washed and clean, and cheerful as ever.

"Sit down," Arthur says, taking the chalice from Merlin's hands, he drinks and stares down at the pool of velvet scarlet.

"...Was there something else you wanted?" Merlin obeys, dropping gracefully to the floor and sitting cross-legged.

"Today, Uther threw you in the stocks because..." Arthur starts and waits for Merlin to finish the sentence although he already knows perfectly well why.

Merlin laughs and shakes his head, "Oh, that was nothing. It was sort of my fault anyway..I should have woken you up earlier so you could go riding with your father. But I got a little preoccupied when Gaius told me to go and get something for him...I thought I'd have the time." He shrugs, "The miscalculation was entirely my fault."

Arthur smiles privately to himself and drinks more wine. The explanation is not entirely true, but he accepts it...better that, to let Merlin take the blame as a servant is supposed to do, rather than to have Arthur admit to himself that he doesn't want to rise if Merlin does not wake him.

"Don't you ever mind, though?" Once again, Arthur stares at the chalice.

"Of course not." Merlin's grin is a boyish one, "I've gotten to be quite popular with the children. You should honestly try it sometime, it's great fun."

--

**iii. War**

**--  
**

There is a time for war, but Arthur, the pride of Camelot, sometimes wishes there weren't. War means blood, fatigue, endless nights, and endless days, and even though no one believes him, Arthur's dreams are plagued by remorse of the countless villages he has ordered his knights to destroy. It is disgusting. A time of war also means less time with Merlin...who Arthur never asks to ride along with him because doesn't want Merlin to see him be a hero.

He doesn't want Merlin to see him gut out an enemy's insides, he does not want Merlin to see him as the ruthless murderer destiny has deigned him to be, until his sword is stained with blood, or trampling innocent children with his faithful steed.

Arthur would much rather come home triumphant, with the sweet taste of victory in his grasp, so that he can always be the Arthur that he wants to be for Merlin's eyes. Arthur is tired, all he wants to is to find an excuse to find comfort in Merlin's arms just once.

Once.

Even that, though, is too much to ask for a prince. The war has not been kind to Merlin, Arthur knows, even when the other tries to greet him with a bright smile. His sunken eyes give him away.

"There's something you're not telling me." Arthur points out, as Merlin pulls back his covers and smooths the sheets.

"I just..." Merlin clears his throat slowly, stalling for time as he unbuckles Arthur's boots with careful, practiced hands. "His Majesty went in a frenzy after you left. People were arrested on almost empty charges."

"He does that. I'll work on getting them released on the morrow." Arthur says, staring down at the top of Merlin's head, "Is that your way of saying you miss me?" He doesn't need an answer, because he already knows.

--

**iv. Silence**

**--  
**

In time, too, there is silence. Admittedly, Merlin doesn't know what to do with these silences because he is used to Arthur whining, Arthur wanting something. It's simple that way, so that he doesn't have to think any of the thoughts that a manservant shouldn't have to think about a prince. But Merlin doesn't anyway.

In silence, Merlin decides that Arthur is indeed very handsome, too handsome for his own good. The prince is stunning, but maybe that is why Arthur is a prince and Merlin...isn't.

Arthur is kind to him when he is silent, all Merlin has to do is sit and watch Arthur drown wine in his bed. It's one of those days, when the prince decides that he needs to have a day off to himself. While that occurrence is not so rare, the fact that Arthur wants to have Merlin all to himself during those days is a happening that borders upon impossibility, and yet...

"Merlin, quit gawking at me, I _said_ more wine."

The silence is broken, but it gives him an excuse. Normally, he'd be annoyed, but this time, he wears a hopeless smile, "You're drinking too much wine."

"And why do you care? It's good wine."

Merlin opens his mouth, and then closes it, without a word, he refills the goblet. Arthur smirks at him, it is an ultimately infuriating smirk. "Don't believe me? Try it."

That is even rarer. Merlin glances at the cup hesitantly, if anything, he has had the worst experiences when it comes to wine. But he can't stand the way Arthur is smirking at him, and besides, it should be fine, Arthur has been drinking from it, it can't be poisoned. He drinks, and Arthur waits with crossed arms for his critique, looking so smug.

"Well?"

"It's good wine." Merlin says, because there is really nothing else to say. Besides, he is telling the truth.

"Good, now that I've proved my point, don't lecture anymore."

Then it is back to silence. Merlin sinks down on the edge of Arthur's bed, to his surprise, Arthur doesn't call him out for insolence, but instead, the prince raises a hand and strokes his hair, like one would stroke a kitten. It's uncharacteristic of Arthur but Merlin can't find it in himself to want to complain.

--

**v. King**

**--  
**

When the time finally does come that Uther breathes his last, Arthur becomes Arthur Pendragon and is King of Camelot. He swears to Merlin that things will be different once he is King. Things will be different, he will not be like his father, Camelot will change for the better when he is on the throne.

"So what you're saying is, things will be different." Merlin is ashamed of himself, he doesn't mean to sound so bitter. It's his destiny to look the other way. Away from Arthur, he knows that. He has just never imagined that it would hurt so, so much.

"Merlin." Arthur bites his lip, "I"m King." and if Merlin only has an inkling of what Arthur would give not to be king.

"I know," Merlin stares hard at the pebble he is currently nudging with his toe. "I'm sorry, I should have bitten my tongue, sire."

Arthur smiles, his smile has grown into a stately, kingly one, "No, you are Merlin, and you'll continue to be my manservant, who speaks most openly when he's not supposed to." There is sorrow in his eyes, but that will be covered up when years pass. Arthur holds out his hand. "Can I count on you?"

Merlin kneels before him, and takes Arthur's hand in his own trembling ones. In the moment of sheer stupidity and boldness, he presses the white knuckles to his lips.

And then he straightens. Arthur suddenly doesn't know what to _think_, all he can do is _feel_ the butterflies fluttering in his stomach.

"All hail, King Arthur."

* * *

_Part 1 End:: 4/25/09_


	2. Part II

**Notes: **Much love to everyone who reviewed Part I. This part somehow turned out to be a lot more cutesy/fluffy than intended, but I'm pretty happy with the end result. Please enjoy and review.

* * *

**Ecclesiastes**

_"There is a time for everything; a season for everything under heaven."_  
-Ecclesiastes 3:1

**Part II**

--

**vi. Dying**

**--  
**

There comes a time when Gaius finally decides to follow in Uther's footsteps. Perhaps he feels like his purposes has passed now, and Merlin wonders if Gaius' destiny was the same as his, to serve and protect his king. Now that the Uther Pendragon has passed, it is inevitable that Gaius would follow.

Gaius is blind and bent because his bones are old. Merlin scarcely leaves his side, except to fetch water, or small nibbles in the kitchen. King Arthur moves Gaius to a large chamber in the castle. It is both a gift for Merlin, and Gaius, and it holds a selfish motive for Arthur.

"You can't die." Merlin says insistently, "I'm not ready for you to go yet. There's still things you must teach me, lessons I can learn only from you. You can't be so selfish and leave me."

A wrinkled finger traces his jaw and Gaius' smile is most serene. "In these times, you don't need me. The rule of Uther Pendragon is over, this is a shining new age of Camelot. It's a Golden Age. I must die, and you know it."

True, Gaius must pass, to seal the last remnant of Uther's reign. It is up to Merlin to look after Arthur, to guide the new age. For days, he refuses to eat, and Arthur lets him be, Arthur, in a surprising gesture, hasn't made him do anything either. Except at night, Arthur calls him to his chambers.

"I don't want you to stay in the Apothecary's house." He has to phrase it like an order, perhaps because Arthur knows it is too much to point out that Gaius' previous dwelling place holds ghosts for his manservant. And how right he was.

Merlin pauses in the doorway, "Then where am I supposed to sleep, sire?"

"Right here. I have a bed set up for you." And indeed, against the far wall by the window, is a bed, it looks much more comfortable than the bed in the attic. "Besides, it's a pain to call for you if you're so far away." Arthur throws himself down on his bed, "Just go to sleep and don't ask anymore questions."

--

**vii. Secrets**

**--  
**

Secrets cannot be kept forever, Merlin knows that. He knows that better than anyone else. He knows that the guards that dragged in a woman accused of sorcery will one day be dragging him too. The woman is charged with the poisoning of her own child with a magic potion. The woman sobs and kneels at Arthur's feet and tells him that her child was dying. The potion was her last chance. She really doesn't mean to use magic, she had to.

Arthur is regal and untouchable on his throne. Yet his eyes are not like Uther's, harsh and unbelieving. He rises up after a moment of thought and offers his hand to the woman, who stands, trembling in what Merlin thinks is fear and relief at the same time.

"I am truly sorry for your loss." His eyes show that he is sincere, "Go in peace and bury your child."

That night, Merlin lies in bed and listens to Arthur's breathing, his breathing is too loud, which means he is probably still awake.

"Sire?"

"What, Merlin?"

Merlin takes a deep breath. "I know magic. I'm a sorcerer. I'm sorry to have lied to you."

In the dark, Arthur does not answer, and Merlin wonders if he will be executed in the morning.

--

**viii. Magic**

**--  
**

He is still alive in the morning, he wakes Arthur, and they go about their morning routine without Arthur's usual fuss about the water drawn for his bath being too cold, he doesn't complain that the clothes that Merlin has laid out for him are not clean enough. In fact, Arthur doesn't say anything to him at all.

Except: "Thank you, Merlin."

Merlin lives out the next week in dire trepidation. Arthur barely speaks to him, and maybe he has just been hit with an overdose of paranoia, but no one has been speaking to him, even Gwen and Morgana go through great lengths to avoid him. Merlin listen, straining for whispers of, "He's a sorcerer, he will be put to death for sure." But he does not hear anything.

But he still sleeps in Arthur's chambers, and Arthur never says a word. Perhaps he is watching, to see if Merlin will betray his magic again. Perhaps he hopes it is not true.

It is a clear warm day as Arthur calls together all of Camelot. Merlin has no idea what it could possibly be about, except that Morgana presents him with a new tunic, and new trousers. "Made especially for you, Merlin," she says, "Arthur's orders."

Perhaps he is to be executed presentably dressed, Merlin thinks gloomily. He doesn't just think, he knows. Merlin stands quietly at Arthur's side, only half listening until Arthur looks at him:

"I believe that in order for Camelot to flourish into a Golden Age, we'll need magic. We'll need faith in the phenomenal and what we cannot see or explain. I've called you all here today, to witness the appointment of the Court's royal magician—Merlin."

It is all he can do to keep his jaw from dropping. Merlin is relieved when Arthur orders him down on his knees, so that no one but his king can see the tears of _joy_ welling in his eyes.

"Henceforth, you'll be Merlin, my magician, to guide me until the end of my days and yours." It is a promise for the future, a future that Merlin has not ever dreamed possible.

--

**ix. Madness**

**--  
**

A time has come for King Arthur to descend into madness. Madness courses through his very veins like a raging fever and a dark curse. He suffers from sleepless nights, and how fitting, that the curse is placed on him by his own royal magician Merlin? There is name for his madness, its name is Desire.

Nothing else has changed, Arthur supposes, Merlin certainly hasn't, he wears a title around his neck now, but he wears it humbly. And the fact that Arthur's madness is ever growing does not change either. He sits in the bath, forcing himself to breathe calmly, think rationally, while Merlin's nonchalant hands work to distract him to everything otherwise.

"Merlin." He speaks his servant's name in a whisper, "_Merlin_."

I'm going mad, he wants so badly to say, it's all because of you. You've reduced me to this, you've made mockery of your King. You're such an idiot you don't even know what you're doing.

Merlin's hands stop rubbing soothing circles on his bare back. His palms are still and cool on Arthur's skin, "Yes, sire?"

_I **want** you. _The madness is insistently gnawing at him, not unlike a venomous poison. "Merlin, I gave you so much. I've given you a bed in my chambers, a title, I've given you the freedom to practice magic whenever you choose, I..."

Merlin is silent, and then he speaks Arthur's name, "Arthur. We cannot. You are a king, you have a responsibility to your people to be respectable and upstanding, you can't possibly--"

The madness in his veins quicken when Arthur feels the warm weight of Merlin's head against his shoulder. He bites his lips, "I never knew my servant to be so ungrateful. I do not ask for much. I give you all that I have. All that I am. All you need to do is receive my gifts and offering."

"You're _mad_, Arthur." Merlin says, unmoving, "It's not in your power to give me these things. You don't even own these things. These things belong to your people. You should know."

"Yes, I _am_ mad." Arthur whirls around and one of his hands clamp forcefully down on Merlin's chin, so Merlin cannot move. Those green eyes flicker and Arthur thinks that they are mocking him---again. They are mocking because the eyes want him too, "You've drove me to it, you want this as much as I do! And yet, of course you won't allow me to be selfish."

"I have no power to decree what the King of Camelot can and cannot do, even if you wish to give me such a power. But kings cannot be selfish. You should know that too." Merlin's eyes are green and bright and _burning_. Arthur can hardly breathe. They are entirely too close and Arthur's bath water is suddenly much, much too warm.

"But you're driving me _mad_." Desperation seeps into Arthur's expression as Merlin easily breaks his hold and stands. "I _want_ you. You're the one that is selfish—where are you going?"

"Arthur," When Merlin is standing, Arthur thinks that his manservant looks strangely imposing and old. "In time you will not want me. You'll have yourself a queen and a happy life. You will not give me a second thought." He smiles bravely, "For me, it might not be so easy. I'm leaving so you can dress. I'm sure you can manage this once."

Once.

The promise of what is all that Arthur wants. This madness will plague him even after once, since he's selfish and unrelenting (which Merlin points out, even if his lowly servant has no _right_.) but he doesn't care. He rises from the tub, naked and golden, and somehow manages to get to Merlin before his servant can get away.

"You're not going anywhere." Arthur kisses Merlin, the way he has always dreamed of and indulges his madness.

--

**x. Once**

**--  
**

There is never a time for them. There never will be. The once is something that Arthur greedily steals from the destiny that haunts and bounds both of them to what they are really meant to be. The once is a fleeting moment in the passing of time, the once is over too quickly, since the once is not supposed to take place.

"Get in. The water will be cold, but I can't help that."

Merlin waits a few moments before rousing himself from the floor. His dark hair is beautifully mussed and there are marks all over his skin. Marks that will fade with time, but Arthur secretly hopes they keep.

"Sire--"

"Get in," Arthur repeats wearily, "I hope you're not planning to make disobedience a habit because I find it distasteful and unbecoming on you."

After a moment's hesitation, Merlin gives in to Arthur's pointed glare and hauls himself into the tub. The water is cold, but Arthur's hands are warm. He closes his eyes, "This is scandalous, Arthur. It really is." A king washing his manservant, both indecent.

"I don't care." Arthur grins at him, although his eyes are still dark with the thought of times to come. "A little self-indulgence is good for you. Believe me."

"You would know." Merlin glances at him. "You're a _prat_." and if anyone knows the pleasures of self-indulgence, it would be Arthur Pendragon.

"That is no way to speak to your king." Arthur remands him, with a little water splash to his face. "Apologize."

"I'm sorry, sire."

"Good, as long as you know your place."

Arthur leans in to kiss him, once more. Because he is greedy, because once has always been stolen, and perhaps if he steals once more, it would hardly seem to matter. Time has little patience for these interludes. But Arthur wants to believe something else, and so does Merlin. There is time for everything, maybe even moments for them.

* * *

_Part II End:: 4/25/09 ~ Complete  
_


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